


John's 300-Credit Epiphany

by newtypeshadow



Category: Almost Human (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Androids, Angst, Blow Jobs, DRN Sexbot, DRNs (Almost Human), DRNs Have Big Dicks, Denial of Feelings, Dorian Has a Big Dick, Dorian Is a Good Bro, Dorian is a troll, Emotionally Repressed, John Kennex Has Trust Issues, M/M, Oblivious John, Obsession, Pining, Prostitution, Robot Sex, Secret Crush, Sex Robots, Sexbots, Sexual Fantasy, Trust Issues, Unrequited Love, Unresolved, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, as far as John knows anyway, not that he's asked Dorian, pegging (mentioned)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 04:23:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19310551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newtypeshadow/pseuds/newtypeshadow
Summary: John Kennex is not a size queen.Honestly, this whole fixation he’s got is Dorian’s fault.





	John's 300-Credit Epiphany

**Author's Note:**

> The show _canonically_ gave us normalized sexbot solicitation, DRN-adjacent androids being human enough to give clients the girlfriend experience, DRNs recycled into different jobs, and Dorian’s big dick. Fics like this one were bound to happen.
> 
> This has been languishing in my fanfic Scrivener since January 2018. When I read back over it, I realized that (SPOILER WARNING) although John and Dorian don’t end the fic together, the fic itself was done. For those who, like me, need HEAs, my headcanon for how they’d get together post-fic is in the end notes.

John Kennex is not a size queen.

Honestly, this whole fixation he’s got is Dorian’s fault.

The most he’s ever cared about the size of a partner’s dick—sex partner’s, that is, and damn, even the word “partner” is loaded now thanks to Dorian—was whether it was bigger or thicker than his; John’s a man with an Alpha streak a mile wide and he knows this about himself, knows there’s a part of his lizard brain that will never evolve and eternally be competing to be the biggest and the best, and while he accepts this about himself, he’s smart enough not to judge others by the size of their dicks.

But then Dorian unzips his pants and has enough dick for two people, and he says he uses it for the same thing John does—“Nothing”—but after John’s embarrassment fades he wonders if Dorian’s dick, like his own, can be used for more than just the nothing that’s been John’s sex life since he woke up a failure and alone.

It should’ve ended there, but it doesn’t. Instead, as John works—as he consciously gets back into the swing of life instead of wallowing in depression, self-pity, self-loathing—his sex drive returns. He starts missing sex, starts missing having someone there when he wakes up and goes to sleep and putters around the house. He misses being filled up and fucked until he can think of nothing but the pleasure building inside him and the person driving him to it. But as much as he wants that, he can’t forget for a second the last time he had it. Anna had been everything to him. He’d loved her and stupidly, _stupidly_ trusted her, and she looked right at him and threw the grenade that nearly killed him. No hesitation, no regret. Instead, she’d turned her back and walked away, left the bomb to do its work. He’d trusted her with everything, and she’d used him to murder his partner and his team.

John isn’t ready to trust anyone, not after that. He shuts people out now, he doesn’t invite them in—not into his house, not into his bed, and certainly not into his body.

But he still wants to be fucked, and his mind keeps circling back to seeing Dorian’s huge dick.

That’s when other things begin slotting into place in John’s brain: Dorian scanning John’s balls and pretty much telling him he needed to get laid. Dorian asking John if he wanted Dorian to put his finger somewhere other than in John’s coffee. Rudy mentioning DRN programming was used to make sexbots more companionable. Seeing a DRN as a repairman and realizing they weren’t all scrapped for parts. Add in Rudy, that sexbot, and hell, even Paul’s comments about sexbots being perfectly acceptable company for normal people, not just the prerogative of shady, desperate types, and the idea coalesces into a question that just won’t quit: Did any of the DRNs became sexbots?

It takes John thirty seconds on the web to learn there are indeed DRN sexbots. It takes another minute to learn some are even Dorian’s model—more than half that time is spent waffling on whether to run that second search though, if he’s honest.

John is only as honest with himself as is necessary these days.

He plans to leave things at that. After all, if Dorian hacked into his search history he’d have a field day psychoanalyzing John while pretending to the department that John was going insane all on his own. John actually likes that about Dorian, not that he’ll ever say it out loud: angelic-looking Dorian is actually a total shit, and John’s the only one in the department who knows it.

But John’s mind flashes to how similarly that repairman DRN and Dorian acted when first introduced to him, like they were running through a script designed to test John’s limits and reactions, to which they’d adjust accordingly. In some ways, it had been like meeting Dorian all over again.

Dorian, who is beautiful and a total shit and who John trusts with his life.

Maybe, John thinks. Maybe this is the solution to his problem, the one he’s been working towards ever since he saw Dorian’s dick. This is how John can get fucked, keep his trust issues, and not ruin his life all in one night.

It takes very little digging to find out there are four DRNs that look like Dorian taking clients in the city.

That “taking clients” is important, because DRNs made “the girlfriend experience” possible for sexbots, and the other three candidates are booked at least two months out.

John books an appointment with the available one for Saturday, his next day off.

He tries not to ogle Dorian any more than usual that week. He tries especially hard not to look at Dorian’s crotch and let his eyes glaze over imagining that massive dick thrusting up into him, fucking every thought out of him but Dorian’s name and a handful of expletives. John doesn’t think he succeeded. Dorian’s eyed him strangely a few times, and started man-spreading at his desk. Every time John catches himself and looks up to see if he’s been caught, Dorian’s watching him with amused blue eyes and a barely-perceptible smirk on his face. It turns into a grin when John glares at him. Every time.

Dorian’s presence constantly plunges John’s mind into the gutter, and Dorian treats it like a joke.

At least he hasn’t brought up John’s wandering eyes, wandering mind, or constantly simmering arousal in his presence.

Until, on Friday, he does.

They’re at a stoplight on their way to Rudy’s, where John will drop Dorian off for the weekend, when Dorian gets that innocent look on his face he gets when he’s about to be a shit, and says, “You’ve been distracted with increasing frequency this week. Your pulse rate and retinal dilation throughout indicate the primary cause is arousal, but your cortisol output also suggests anxiety.”

“Dorian!” John goes cold with mortification and nearly runs a red light before screeching to a stop that jolts them both against their seatbelts. “You— Quit _scanning_ me!” he shouts. Immediately, there’s a whorl of blue lights reflected in Dorian’s window. John is momentarily hypnotized by their etherial dance across Dorien’s perfect cheekbone. When he snaps out of it, he realizes he’s done it again _while Dorian was scanning him_ and blanches. “Goddammit, Dorian!”

Then comes the playful grin Dorian seems to reserve for sitting in the passenger seat of John’s car. “Hot date this weekend?”

John glances at Dorian’s dick before trying to glower the red light into turning green. “Shut. Up.” Of _course_ Dorian wouldn’t let it go. He’d lulled John into thinking he was safe, then sprung this on him right when John thought he was home free. What does it say about him that he enjoys this man’s company?

“It’s okay, John,” Dorian is saying. “I’m proud of you for putting yourself out there again. This is a big step for you.”

“It’s _not_ a date,” John growls.

“Do you want it to be?”

There is no way in hell John is shacking up with a sexbot.

The distaste must show on his face, because Dorian says, just as shrewd about John as he is about their cases, “I see. So your date is strictly for sex.”

John groans and rubs the bridge of his nose. He hopes Dorian thinks he’s got a headache. He’ll back off if he thinks John has a headache—John knows because it’s happened often enough.

Right on cue, Dorian’s grin softens. “I understand why you wouldn’t be ready for an emotional connection yet, John. But you’ll get there. This is a good step. I’m proud of you. And…” he clasps John’s shoulder in a physical show of support. “If you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

John’s heart flutters in his throat, and a warmth he refuses to name settles in his chest even as the hand on his arm sends electricity jagging down his spine and into his dick. Dorian looks so earnest and perfect and trustworthy in John’s passenger seat, illuminated by street lights and the LEDs of the radio, that John is struck by the sudden urge to cradle Dorian’s face in his hands and kiss him breathless.

John recoils from the urge like he’s been slapped and, when a car honks behind them, jams his foot on the accelerator like if he only goes fast enough, he can outrun it.

He tells himself he imagined the hurt that streaked across Dorian’s face just before he removed his hand and turned his head. John tells himself Dorian’s sigh and the fraught silence between them are not his fault.

“You missed the turn,” Dorian says abruptly.

John curses and makes an illegal U-turn that would’ve gotten them killed were the streets not so dead at this hour.

“John.” When John glances at him, Dorien’s eyes are tight with worry. “Is something wrong?”

Fatigue crashes into John like salvation. “I’m tired,” he says honestly. “It’s late. I just want to go home, drink a beer, and go to sleep.” He wills Dorian to drop it as he turns the car down the street to Rudy’s lab. He feels Dorian’s measuring gaze and can’t make himself look, lest he give something away yet again.

He’s already given too much away with this conversation.

Dorian sighs. John thinks it’s solely for his benefit; Dorian doesn’t need to breathe. “Okay,” Dorian says when John glances at him.

John’s shoulders relax. He parks in the lot and unlocks the doors. “See you Monday,” he tells Dorian. “Enjoy your weekend.” Then something occurs to him. “Hey, what do you do on your days off, anyway?”

Dorian grins and opens his door. “You’d know if you let me move into your trophy room.”

John groans at him and waves at him to get out faster. Dorian shuts the door with a laugh.

John tries to ignore the way Dorian’s police-issue trousers hug his ass as he walks to the door, unlocks it, and steps inside with a—with a smug little grin as he waves, the sonofabitch. John snarls at him and speeds off in a screech of tires. He tries not to be distracted by Dorian’s smile in his rearview mirror.

#

Saturday night finds him three hundred credits poorer and riding up a hotel elevator with a DRN that looks just like Dorian, but isn’t. The DRN’s name is Darren, and he picked John up in the hotel bar like he was greeting an old paramour. There was no kissing, but the promise in Darren’s blue eyes and purposeful touches suggested enough.

When they enter the hotel room, Darren asks John what he’d like to do.

“I want…” John’s eyes fall to Darren’s crotch and then away. This was stupid. This is a sexbot. This isn’t Dorian—and if it _were_ Dorian, it still wouldn’t be okay. He can’t do this. “Look,” John begins, ready to pull the plug and just accept that he’s made a three-hundred-credit mistake if it gets him out of here with dignity intact. He meets Darren’s eyes, apology on his lips…and the patient understanding he sees there is so familiar his mouth goes dry. “Dorian…” Want curls down John’s spine, and he swallows. “I want you to fuck me.”

Darren’s lips curve in a sultry smile John has never seen grace Dorian’s face. The look electrifies John, makes him tingle all over, and when Darren strips John doesn’t know where to look first, wants to look everywhere, wants to touch Dorian everywhere.

“You can call me Dorian if you want,” Darren tells him as he strips John with efficiency but far more touching than John has experienced since Anna.

John feels Darren’s dick like a brand against his thigh, hard and long and thick and… John gives it a long, firm stroke from root to tip and feels wetness at the tip. He rubs the slick liquid between his fingers, sniffs it. “Is this…?”

“Lubricant,” Darren says with a wicked little grin, and manhandles John onto the bed.

John doesn’t have to tell the DRN he likes it; the light show in red on his face (Wrong color, John thinks; Not Dorian, he remembers) and the way he confidently holds John’s hips immobile before swallowing John’s dick down to the root and squeezing around him with his throat says he’s figured that out just fine.

Darren starts fingering John’s ass just before he sucks John through his first orgasm of the night. By the time John’s coherent enough to form words again, Dorien’s flipped him onto his chest, put a pillow under his hips, and got two fingers and a tongue inside him, and John’s dick is doing its best to thicken back up.

“You’re doing so good, John,” Dorian croons as he pumps his fingers into John’s ass.

The compliment does as much to liquify John’s bones as Dorian choosing that moment to stroke John’s sweet spot. John’s hips quiver. When Dorian begins withdrawing his fingers, John’s ass follows them, trying to put them back in, stave off the emptiness he feels not having Dorian inside him. “Don’t worry, John,” Dorian says, “I’ll take care of you.” He pulls John onto his knees and puts a hand on John’s dick. John groans, torn between pushing forward into Dorian’s hand, or back onto his slick fingers. Then John feels his ass stretch further—another finger to prep him for Dorian’s monster cock, he thinks a bit deliriously—and he feels like he’s close again, but he can’t, he can’t come like this, he wants to come with Dorian inside him and he’s somehow sure they don’t have time for him to come back from two orgasms, vaguely remembers that they’re on the clock.

“Fuck me,” he says desperately. “I want to come when you fuck me.”

Dorian releases John’s dick with what feels like a wistful final stroke. He pulls John’s ass higher and spreads John’s legs. John knows it’ll feel good, but… “No,” he says. “I want to see you.” He wants to see Dorian’s face. He wants to watch Dorian fuck him. He wants to feel that dick inside him and know who it belongs to.

John is too busy trying to stave off an orgasm to realize what that means.

“Okay, John,” Dorian says, and strokes down John’s back before maneuvering them so John is kneeling over him. Dorian’s fingers never leave John’s body, for which he is grateful. “I can guide you, if you’re ready. Are you ready for me, John?”

John snickers a little crazily. “Am I ever?” he slings back. He reaches for Dorian’s cock, and the two of them guide it into John’s body as John lets gravity help set the pace.

It’s hard going. Even with Dorian’s finger prep and self-lubricating android dick and hand pumping John’s dick, it’s a stretch. John feels Dorian in places he’s never felt another person before, and part of him likes that. When he bottoms out, feels the smooth skin of Dorian’s muscular thighs against his ass, John meets Dorian’s eyes and grins.

He knows Dorian will be grinning back. He knows the challenge he’ll see in Dorian’s eyes and the satisfaction in the set of his jaw. John wants to see Dorian’s amusement—he _needs_ it.

But when he looks at Dorien’s face, Darren’s uncomplicated patience and bedroom eyes are looking back at him. John’s face falls as he remembers: this isn’t Dorian. This was never Dorian.

This will never _be_ Dorian.

Darren fucks John through a second orgasm. It feels amazing.

But now he knows it would’ve been better if it had been Dorian inside him. John can’t hide from himself what he was really after now that it’s done. He wants Dorian. He _has_ formed a connection with someone: his synthetic partner.

If Dorian ever figures that out, he’ll probably laugh before being even more of a shit than he is about everything. Dorian’s perfected the art of giving John shit: quiet, calm voice and innocent smile leaving no one around them the wiser. John kind of loves that, even when he wants to throw Dorian out of the car and into oncoming traffic.

If Dorian weren’t the best partner John’s ever had on the force, if Dorian’s dream job as a cop weren’t dependent on John’s satisfaction with him as a partner, and if he weren’t the literal property of the police department, John realizes he would go for Dorian. Because John’s gone on him.

But Dorian is all of those things, and John can’t compromise Dorian’s happiness or free will just because he’s got a crush. Dorian is more important than John’s feelings.

John will just have to control himself better.

Now that he knows what he’s missing.

Now that he knows what he could have would be so much better than even what little he’s experienced.

First Anna, now Dorian…

Goddammit.

John Kennex is not a size queen, but the people he’s attracted to always seem to end up fucking him.

And then fucking him up, and fucking him over.

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you who want a Dorian/John Kennex HEA:  
> I headcanon worried Dorian doing a lot of illegal hacking that weekend to check on John, including reviewing his financials and the DRN sexbot's memory files; figuring out John's feelings; and being the emotionally functional adult of the pair and wooing John—who will probably be the last person in the world to realize he and Dorian are actually dating. When he does, Dorian's charging station will be moved to John's trophy room, and they'll both get the happy romance and rock-solid relationship they deserve.
> 
> Anyway, that's the fic. I hope you enjoyed it! If you did, please leave kudos or even a comment to let me know! ^_^


End file.
